Are You Ready? Can You Take It? THE BOB DYLAN THREAD

It removes some of the veil of mystery about him. In the beginning of the movie, he is pretty much a normal guy, except for the talent. Imagine just inherently having a talent so great that people are throwing themselves at you constantly, and expecting answers about the meaning of life from you. At first it would be fun, but after awhile, it would really be a burden.

This is pretty close to the time he went electric, a pretty tumultuous time, lotta inner turmoil. He says he even considered walking away from it all about then, hence the writing of Restless Farewell.

I can't begin to imagine what it would be like to have crowds always camped on your doorstep wanting you to fix their lives or explain life to them.

I forget which song, he says, "I ain't no prophet
I ain't no prophet's son"

Bob, Sara, and Baby

Long Time Gone


My parents raised me tenderly,
I was their only son.
My mind got mixed with ramblin'
When I was all so young,
And I left my home the first time
When I was twelve and one.
I'm a long time a-comin', Maw,
An' I'll be a long time gone.

On the western side of Texas,
On the Texas plains,
I tried to find a job o'work
But they said I's young of age.
My eyes they burned when I heard,
"Go home where you belong!"
I'm a long time a-comin',
An' I'll be a long time gone.

I remember when I's ramblin'
Around with the carnival trains,
Different towns, different people,
Somehow they're all the same.
I remember children's faces best,
I remember travelin' on.
I'm a long time a-comin',
I'll be a long time gone.

I once loved a fair young maid
An' I ain't too big to tell,
If she broke my heart a single time,
She broke it ten or twelve.
I walked and talked all by myself,
I did not tell no one.
I'm a long time a-comin', babe,
An' I'll be a long time gone.

Many times by the highwayside,
I tried to flag a ride.
With bloodshot eyes and gritting teeth,
I'd watch the cars roll by.
The empty air hung in my head
I's thinkin' all day long.
I'm a long time a-comin',
An' I'll be a long time gone.

You might see me on your crossroads
When I'm a-passin' through.
Remember me how you wished to
As I'm a-driftin' from your view.
I ain't got the time to think about it,
I got too much to get done.
Well, I'm a long time comin'
An' I'll be a long time gone.

If I can't help somebody
With a word or song,
If I can't show somebody
They are travelin' wrong.
But I know I ain't no prophet
An' I ain't no prophet's son.
I'm just a long time a-comin'
An' I'll be a long time gone.

So you can have your beauty,
It's skin deep and it only lies.
And you can have your youth,
It'll rot before your eyes.
Just give to me my gravestone
With it clearly carved upon:
"I's a long time a-comin',
An' I'll be a long time gone."



Copyright © 1963; renewed 1991 Special Rider Music

Anybody for some coffee this morning? I can't get to a Starbucks. Hope they don't sell all the Dylan stuff before I get a chance at it.

The Hurricane gets me every time.


Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night
Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall.
She sees the bartender in a pool of blood,
Cries out, "My God, they killed them all!"
Here comes the story of the Hurricane,
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.

Three bodies lyin' there does Patty see
And another man named Bello, movin' around mysteriously.
"I didn't do it," he says, and he throws up his hands
"I was only robbin' the register, I hope you understand.
I saw them leavin'," he says, and he stops
"One of us had better call up the cops."
And so Patty calls the cops
And they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashin'
In the hot New Jersey night.

Meanwhile, far away in another part of town
Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivin' around.
Number one contender for the middleweight crown
Had no idea what kinda **** was about to go down
When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road
Just like the time before and the time before that.
In Paterson that's just the way things go.
If you're black you might as well not show up on the street
'Less you wanna draw the heat.

Alfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops.
Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowlin' around
He said, "I saw two men runnin' out, they looked like middleweights
They jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates."
And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head.
Cop said, "Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead"
So they took him to the infirmary
And though this man could hardly see
They told him that he could identify the guilty men.

Four in the mornin' and they haul Rubin in,
Take him to the hospital and they bring him upstairs.
The wounded man looks up through his one dyin' eye
Says, "Wha'd you bring him in here for? He ain't the guy!"
Yes, here's the story of the Hurricane,
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.

Four months later, the ghettos are in flame,
Rubin's in South America, fightin' for his name
While Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game
And the cops are puttin' the screws to him, lookin' for somebody to blame.
"Remember that murder that happened in a bar?"
"Remember you said you saw the getaway car?"
"You think you'd like to play ball with the law?"
"Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin' that night?"
"Don't forget that you are white."

Arthur Dexter Bradley said, "I'm really not sure."
Cops said, "A poor boy like you could use a break
We got you for the motel job and we're talkin' to your friend Bello
Now you don't wanta have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.
You'll be doin' society a favor.
That sonofabitch is brave and gettin' braver.
We want to put his ass in stir
We want to pin this triple murder on him
He ain't no Gentleman Jim."

Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
But he never did like to talk about it all that much.
It's my work, he'd say, and I do it for pay
And when it's over I'd just as soon go on my way
Up to some paradise
Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice
And ride a horse along a trail.
But then they took him to the jailhouse
Where they try to turn a man into a mouse.

All of Rubin's cards were marked in advance
The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance.
The judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums
To the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum
And to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger.
No one doubted that he pulled the trigger.
And though they could not produce the gun,
The D.A. said he was the one who did the deed
And the all-white jury agreed.

Rubin Carter was falsely tried.
The crime was murder "one," guess who testified?
Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied
And the newspapers, they all went along for the ride.
How can the life of such a man
Be in the palm of some fool's hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land
Where justice is a game.

Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
An innocent man in a living hell.
That's the story of the Hurricane,
But it won't be over till they clear his name
And give him back the time he's done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.

Cleverly written and beautifully sung.

Peace,
E

One More Cup Of Coffee

(Once more)

Listening to this track once, is not enough!

Peace,
E

Great poster!

Death Is Not The End

When you're sad and when you're lonely and you
haven't got a friend
Just remember that death is not the end
And all that you've held sacred, falls down and does not mend
Just remember that death is no the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end

When you're standing at the crossroads that you cannot comprehend
Just remember that death is not the end
And all your dreams have vanished and you don't know what's up the bend
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end

When the storm clouds gather 'round you, and heavy rains descend
Just remember that death is not the end
And there's no one there to comfort you, with a helpin' hand to lend
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end

Oh, the tree of life is growing
Where the spirit never dies
And the bright light of salvation shines
In dark and empty skies

When the cities are on fire with the burning flesh of men
Just remember that death is not the end
And you search in vain to find just one law abiding citizen
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end

Beautiful Rod -What a wonderful, reassuring, comforting song. I can't remember ever having heard this one before. What album is it on? Thanks for posting it.

Yes aidan I think it's a super song and well sang it's on 'Down In The Groove' from the late 80's, it's only recently that I've got the CD.

An interesting analysis of "Mr. Tambourine Man:"

Here

I just enjoy the song without analyzing it overmuch. To each his own.

Bobby Dylan ,the sad old man
He held a broken hourglass in his hand -
Donovan

Hard Times

Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears
While we all sup sorrow with the poor.
There's a song that will linger forever in our ears,
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.

While we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay.
There are frail forms fainting at the door.
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say,
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.

There's a pale drooping maiden who foils her life away
With a worn out heart, whose better days are o'er.
Though her voice it would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day,
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.

'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.

Ballad in Plain D

I once loved a girl, her skin it was bronze.
With the innocence of a lamb, she was gentle like a fawn.
I courted her proudly but now she is gone,
Gone as the season she's taken.

Through young summer's breeze, I stole her away
From her mother and sister, though close did they stay.
Each one of them suffering from the failures of their day,
With strings of guilt they tried hard to guide us.

Of the two sisters, I loved the young.
With sensitive instincts, she was the creative one.
The constant scapegoat, she was easily undone
By the jealousy of others around her.

For her parasite sister, I had no respect,
Bound by her boredom, her pride to protect.
Countless visions of the other she'd reflect
As a crutch for her scenes and her society.

Myself, for what I did, I cannot be excused,
The changes I was going through can't even be used,
For the lies that I told her in hopes not to lose
The could-be dream-lover of my lifetime.

With unknown consciousness, I possessed in my grip
A magnificent mantelpiece, though its heart being chipped,
Noticing not that I'd already slipped
To a sin of love's false security.

From silhouetted anger to manufactured peace,
Answers of emptiness, voice vacancies,
Till the tombstones of damage read me no questions but, "Please,
What's wrong and what's exactly the matter?"

And so it did happen like it could have been foreseen,
The timeless explosion of fantasy's dream.
At the peak of the night, the king and the queen
Tumbled all down into pieces.

"The tragic figure!" her sister did shout,
"Leave her alone, God damn you, get out!"
And I in my armor, turning about
And nailing her to the ruins of her pettiness.

Beneath a bare light bulb the plaster did pound
Her sister and I in a screaming battleground.
And she in between, the victim of sound,
Soon shattered as a child 'neath her shadows.

All is gone, all is gone, admit it, take flight.
I gagged twice, doubled, tears blinding my sight.
My mind it was mangled, I ran into the night
Leaving all of love's ashes behind me.

The wind knocks my window, the room it is wet.
The words to say I'm sorry, I haven't found yet.
I think of her often and hope whoever she's met
Will be fully aware of how precious she is.

Ah, my friends from the prison, they ask unto me,
"How good, how good does it feel to be free?"
And I answer them most mysteriously,
"Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?"



Copyright © 1964; renewed 1992 Special Rider Music